e shall certainly find her a great burthen
on our hands."

"It is true, then," cried Soeur Lucie, "what I heard Soeur Marie
saying--that our sainted mother had bequeathed her to the care
of the convent, and left directions that she is to take the
veil as soon as she is old enough."

"Yes, it is true enough, and, as I was saying, all is no doubt
for the best; otherwise it is really a great charge for us to
have a child of that age on our hands to bring up."

"But that was just my case," replied Soeur Lucie simply. "I
have not been out of the convent for more than six months
since I was ten years old, as you know, Soeur Ursule."

"You, _ma Soeur!_ That was quite a different matter; every one
knows what a marked vocation you had even in your childhood,
and how willingly you devoted your fortune, and resigned all
worldly hopes--whereas this little one has always been the most
tiresome child in the class, and, moreover, will have to live
at the expense of the convent."

"That is true," said Soeur Lucie reflecting; "I never heard
that she had any money, and of course people cannot live for
nothing."

"She has not a sou--you may depend upon it," said Soeur Ursule
emphatically; "she brought nothing with her when she came."

"Nothing!" cried Soeur Lucie.

"Or so little, that it must all be gone by this time. I really
do not see how it can be arranged--Soeurs Marie and Catherine
settled it with our late sainted Superior, and I think even
they are beginning to repent a little, for they were talking
only this morning of all the expense we have had lately."

"Poor child," murmured Soeur Lucie, who had no unkindly
feelings towards her little charge, "there is surely enough
for one more."

"That is all very well, _ma Soeur_, but an extra person is an
extra person, as we all know. We might keep the child for a
time out of charity, but when there is a question of her
taking the vows, and living here always, it is another matter
altogether. It has not been the custom in our house to receive
sisters without _dots_, and it will never do--never; but of
course our sainted mother knew best, and my opinion was not
asked, though it might have been as well worth having as that
of some others."

"Poor child," said good little Soeur Lucie again, looking
towards the bed; "and she has improved very much lately, don't
you think so, _ma Soeur?_"

"Oh, yes, she has improved, no doubt; it would be astonishing
if she had not, after be